My feelers are fixed, but my words are not.
All my life I never felt enough, I was emotionally anemic. My little sister once told me: "I think your feelers are broken."
And yet God (at sundry times and in divers manners) has been breaking me up inside and giving me emotions. At times I feel like Pinocchio ("I'm a real boy!"), trying out my human-ness as a new thing. I don't have a lot of experience at coping with so much feeeeeeeeling. So sometimes I'm in the back of a library, whispering out my wounds and worries to a friend and I can't make my words come right or my face look right or my heart feel right, even though everything is whirring around perfect and punctual in my head.
And yet God (at sundry times and in divers manners) has been breaking me up inside and giving me emotions. At times I feel like Pinocchio ("I'm a real boy!"), trying out my human-ness as a new thing. I don't have a lot of experience at coping with so much feeeeeeeeling. So sometimes I'm in the back of a library, whispering out my wounds and worries to a friend and I can't make my words come right or my face look right or my heart feel right, even though everything is whirring around perfect and punctual in my head.